Taking a break

First of all, Crackbook is totally messing with my mind. My self esteem is already damaged. I have 60 some friends, which my friend Brian pointed out is entirely inadequate. I was like, “Yeah, I know. I’m probably going to be sitting alone at the lunch table soon” and he was like, “Probably, although I always ate lunch with you in law school, so maybe I’ll sit by you” and I was like, “No thanks. I’d rather eat alone, jerk” and I think he started to feel bad because he was all, “Listen, you’ve only been on facewhore for three days. It takes a while to have lots of friends” and I was like, “Whatever. I had lots of friend requests waiting for me when I signed up. That’s how cool I am. People wanted to be my friend before I was ever even on Facemonkey. How many friend requests were waiting for YOU when you signed up?”and he was like, “Umm, okay, at what point did this get so ugly” and I was all, “You know what? You’re just jealous because you’re a successful attorney and I clean ass for a living” and he was like, “Yeeaaaahhh, I think I have to go do some work now” and I was like “Work? I’ll show you work! Try emptying a Diaper Genie!”

Good thing my friend Brian is like my brother and knows me really well, otherwise I think he would have deleted me as his Crackbook friend, and I clearly cannot afford to lose any facecrook friends.

Also, it’s only been like three days, but it has affected the way I talk. Ed called this morning to see how I was doing and I was like, “Laura is feeling sick.”

He was all, “What?” so I said it again and he was like, “I heard you. What’s with the ‘Laura’ business?”

And I was like, “Laura doesn’t appreciate Ed’s tone.”

I think he hung up on  me. Or the connection was bad. Whatever.

I wouldn’t expect him to get it. He’s not part of the in-crowd.

Unrelated, I’m dying of the black plague. Again. Ed went out of town Friday morning for a weekend golfing trip with my dad and a few friends – one that I encouraged him to go on (stupid me) - which is exactly when I started getting sick. By Saturday morning, I was pretty sure I was going to die. I’ve been sick a lot lately, but this one takes the cake. My 102 fever just broke today. Ick. Thank goodness for my mom. She came and got Matty yesterday morning and they’ve been hanging out ever since. I slept for almost 30 hours straight. I think might be developing bed sores.

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Now the important stuff. I’m going to take a break from this blog. Not forever, just a bit. I think everyone who might care why already knows, but if not, please leave a comment or send me an email. You’ll be able to find me somewhere else! Otherwise, we’ll see you all soon.

I don’t know what to call this, but I totally joined My Face (and some serious stuff)

Or is it spacebook? Hmmm, whatever. I did it.  More on that in a minute. At least read the bottom paragraph.

Thank you for your comments and emails. As much as I don’t like to admit weakness, I’m at a point of emotional weakness right now and it’s hard. I’m doing my best to remind myself that things could be worse, others have it bad and I’m lucky, and that life works out in the end. That there’s a bigger plan for my family. That when a door closes, a window opens. I could keep going. Tired of reading that stuff? Me too. But I do know that it’s true.

For the past two months, I’ve been praying so much I feel like I’m begging. Pathetic, huh? Not just for my family, but for a lot of families and friends.  I don’t talk often about my beliefs, and I would consider myself more spiritual than religious, but I do hold a very firm set of Christian beliefs.  I question them a lot, because I can’t accept anything at face value, but they’re there. If not for them, I probably wouldn’t make it through times like this.

I’m very confused and conflicted because of the way I feel about my grandpa. I’m quite fortunate to have made it to the age of 28 and 360 days without really losing anyone close to me. My dad’s father passed away when I was very young. Maybe I was five? I don’t remember anything about it. As I understand, he had a long and painful death. My only memories are of the funeral. Two pictures in my mind – his casket covered with an American flag because he was a Korean war vet and my dad crying. My dad never cries. I won’t forget.

I talked to my mom a lot yesterday. I’m confused by the way I feel. I asked her why God continues to force him to suffer. My mom had an answer that made sense - because my grandpa isn’t quite ready to move on yet. But I still said that I didn’t think he should suffer anymore. It’s so unfair, what he’s going through. It’s painful and it’s terrible. I don’t want him to suffer anymore. But does that mean I want him to die? How do you reconcile that? I cannot.

As for my own selfish thoughts, I do believe that when a door shuts, a window opens. I’ve sorta been hounding God to open up the window already for a while.

The widow is certainly opening, but I’m afraid that if I put my hands on the ledge, they’re going to totally get smooshed. I really don’t want the window to slam shut, too, you know?  I once broke all of the fingers on my right hand in the Great Great Skate Accident of my ‘88. Broken fingers hurt.

Ed and I handle things very differently, which is a good thing, because two of either one of us would be a big, giant mess. I’m a planner and a worrier and an assume-the-worst, hope-for-the-best sort of person. Ed’s an everything-will-be-fine, take-it-as-it-comes  kind of person. Usually, I’m telling him that the only reason he can sit around and say everything’s fine is  ’cause I’m doing everything I can to make it fine, ass monkey. Well, in this case, I can’t do anything to make it fine. And that, my friends, is the low point for me because I have no. control. And people like me? We don’t do well when we don’t have control.

Except that I haven’t had control since the day we received Matty’s referral. As funny as this sounds, I will say that if not for what we went through with Matty’s adoption, I don’t think Id have the coping skills to handle this phase in my life. So, I do think I’ve been given experiences to help me realize that in the end, I control exactly nothing.

Which leaves me afraid, helpless, weak, anxious, and…afraid. But hopeful. And that’s a good thing.

The big, major things – the things that are very significant – are working out. The other things? They’re scary and unknown and hard to handle. But we’ll handle them.

Enough of that.

Mattix was back to himself today. Late yesterday afternoon, when Ed caught me threatening to jump out the first story window and fall 36 inches to my death, he decided to take Mattix out for a few hours for errands and dinner. And today, my Bug was my Bug. He was back! Yesterday was just an off day. I went to the gym this morning and when I got home, Mattix screamed, “Mommy’s home! Hi, Mommy!” Does it get any better?  I think not. Ed kept Mattix busy so that I could make some serious headway on this article. I’ve finally been able to make progress. Thank goodness.  

And last, but certainly not least, I’m now officially on Spacebook. It was all Kedra’s fault. She called us at 5:30, in a panic because there was a lost dog outside and she couldn’t catch it. What the hell is this neighborhood turning into? Turtles, dogs…And why does she always call us? These are good questions. Ed and I walked outside and I was like, “Nope. Too bad.” It’s one of those crazy dogs that runs. I know this because the assholes who own it – they must live somewhere nearby – let it escape far too often. On two separate occasions, I saw it running down the street and stopped my car to try to catch it. On one of those occasions, I then saw the owner (I guess) pull up behind me, calling out to their own dog, chasing it down the street. No thank you. Sorry for the dog, but what is wrong with people? It’s like the douche bag down the street whose Boston Terrier we caught not once, not twice, but three separate times. We have coyotes and occasional bobcats in the neighborhood. What’s wrong with people?

Tangent. Ed invited Kedra over for dinner. We love having Kedra for dinner. Seriously. She eats here at least a few times a week and it’s just part of our routine. Matty loves his Deda. Tonight, Matty’s Deda did me wrong. I was sitting a at the table, enjoying my third glass of wine, totally oblivious to the fact that Kedra was signing me up for a My Face account.

At some point, she showed me. I should have been mad, because along with Roger and Abby, Ed and I were determined to be the last holdouts. But what did I do? I totally started uploading pictures and looking for friends and screeching like an idiot when I found a few old friends from law school and college. Way too exciting. So, if you have a Face*book account, leave me your email address so you can be my friend. It’s 1:15 a.m. and I just finished playing for the night. So. Not. Good. I’ll probably be over it in a week, but until then I want you to be my friends! I use a different email address for Spacebook b/c it contains my last name and even though I’m pretty sure everyone who reads my blog knows my last name ’cause I know you, I’m still totally not going to put my last name here so that girl who keeps googling ‘my husband wears my panties’ won’t be able to actually find me. Honey, my husband doesn’t wear my panties. It’s a joke. Anyway, leave me your email address or leave me a comment and I’ll send you the email address that I use. Isn’t that how it works? With email addresses? I have much to learn.

So much to learn, so little time…

On Emotionally Trying Times and Why I’m a Bad Mom Today

To start, I’m a crappy mom today.

My patience is gone and I’m short tempered. I HATE it when I feel this way. I still have control, but my whiny, cranky, demanding, button-pushing Bug is draining the life out of me. And it’s only 10:30 in the morning.

It’s not his fault. He didn’t fall asleep last night until 10:00 (I have no idea why) and he woke up before 6:00 this morning. He’s tired. So he’s cranky. For the past, I don’t know, maybe six months, Mattix has been so unbelievably enjoyable and easy that on the rare occasion we have a day like this…I’m not used to it anymore. I’m spoiled by my child’s good behavior. The hell? What kind of parent am I?

He came right out the gate whining. You know it’s bad when your child is already whining before you’ve even lifted him out of bed. I couldn’t list all of the things he’s done just to mess with my mind, but I’ll give you the highlights. First, he dumped Gidget’s food bowl all over the floor, then proceeded to EAT the dog food off the floor like. a. dog. As in, on all fours, face to the floor, licking dog kernels up. I asked him if he was hungry – fully knowing he wasn’t - and he said yes, so I gave him a snack cup full of cheddar bunnies. He promptly took them outside onto the patio and dumped them all over the place. I went ahead and let Gidget address that one. As I was cleaning up the dog food mess, Mattix helped himself to TWO dog treats – the really nasty, moist beef jerky kind. I turned around to see that he’d devoured half of one while Gidget was trying to jack the other one of his left hand. I’m sure she was confused as to why he wouldn’t give one of HER treats to her. Thank goodness we feed our dog overpriced organic food and treats. At least I know Mattix didn’t eat horse meat. I think. Hopefully not.

I made him spit whatever was left in his mouth into my hand and I gave Gidget the other treat. As I was scrubbing half chewed dog a$$ off my hand with soap and water, my little angel used his stool (the one that goes with is little art table, which is now the bane of my existence), to access the Costco sized container of oatmeal out of the pantry. I’ll give you a second to guess what he did with that. Yeah, that’s right. He dumped the 90% full container of oatmeal all over the floor. I put him in time out.

After I cleaned up this mess:

 

I decided we both needed a calm minute. I took him into our guest room and we laid in bed and I turned on the Disney Channel.  We enjoyed a calm 15 minutes of snuggling and giggling. Then Matty determined it was time to get up…and the fun started all over again.  Ugh.

He’s now in bed for an early nap. I really think he just needs to sleep. Or I need him to sleep. Probably both. I suck.

The life stresses – which are many right now and are overwhelming – have eroded my patience. We’ve received good news about one such life stress, but with the good news comes additional stress. Like a move. I hate to move. Have you ever heard that for some people, moving ranks up there with death as far as emotional stress? Sounds stupid, huh? For me, that’s the case. Moving is very, very stressful for me.

My grandfather is dying of a terrible, degenerative terminal illness. Hospice has been called in and it’s heartbreaking. My grandfather is such a good, kind, loving man and to see what he’s gone through over the past year plus, and especially now, would bring you to your knees. He has such strong, deeply held religious beliefs and he is brave. But it’s terrible. Last night my mom overheard him praying for his “wonderful family” – he made mention of each of his three children and their families. He asked God to watch over my brother and I and his “great grand children.” My papa, who is in so much pain, is praying for my family.  This is so hard on my mom.  This is so hard.

We have some very exciting things happening, too, so I’m trying to focus on those and stay positive. There’s some stress that comes with that, though, and it’s really getting the better of me.

And while I’m whining, I’m trying to write an article that has taken far more time than it should b/c I was given bad information from the publisher. I wasted a full day because of crap information. Its sort of the icing on the cake. The $hit cake. I can’t even eat cake.

And so it goes that I’m not being a very good mom, I don’t have much patience, and that makes me feel terrible. I mean, I realize I pretty much set the bar low on a day to day basis, but this? Not okay. Thank goodness I’m not a yell-er (is that a word? I don’t yell at my Bug) or hit-er (obviously), ’cause a day like today? I’d be hoarse.

Tomorrow’s a new day, right?

Matty’s new “turkle”

So this morning, I was sitting on the couch, feeling grateful that Matty slept so late (7:45! Seriously! That happens once every two months or so!) but wishing I could sleep even longer b/c we had a late night with friends over, when my neighbor Kedra called. She was on the way back from her morning Diet Coke run (you know you have a problem when you go get a fountain Diet Coke every morning…or when you ask your friend to bring one back for you at least a few times a week ). She told me she was in the middle of the street in front of my house, standing next to a TURTLE that she almost ran over.

I told her to pick it up so someone else wouldn’t run over it and you know what she said? She couldn’t pick it up b/c she didn’t want to get salmonella. I was all, “What the hell? Are you going to lick it or something? What are you, two? You just have to wash your hands after you touch it. Pick it up, then don’t stick your fingers in your nose or mouth until you wash your hands” and she was like, “No. No way. I’m not getting salmonella.”  So I told her she’d better stand in the middle of the street with the turtle until I got dressed and put shoes on so *I* could pick it up and she was like, “Okay, fine. I’ll stand here. Hurry, ’cause it’s HUGE.”

Matty and I got dressed and went outside and I kid you not, there was this small-ish turtle the size of a medium plate in the middle of the street and I was like, “THIS is huge?” and she was like, “Yeah, it’s really big.” Huh? She’s lucky she’s one of my closest friends. So I made sure it wasn’t a mean turtle (he was really nice), then I picked it up. I had thought that maybe if it were a land turtle I’d consider keeping it. I know nothing about turtles, except that about six months ago, it occurred to me that I’d like to re-home a desert tortoise from the state and I looked into it. Do you know what you have to go through to re-home a desert tortoise here? OMG, I’m not lazy at all, but I decided against it. I practically needed a home study. Anyway, that’s the extent of my turtle knowledge.

However, the turtle had red on its neck and I remembered from the zoos that all of the water turtles have red on their necks, so I figured it was a water turtle. I looked it up on the iternet, used my super sleuth zoological skills, and determined our turtle was a red eared slider. Long story short, I googled anything and everything to find someone to take the turtle. I even called a local restaurant that has a huge pond with lots of turtles to see if they’d take it. In the meantime, Matty determined that this new turtle was “My turKle.” He was very fond of his new turkle. He wanted to feed it cheddar bunnies and put it in his playhouse, but finally agreed with me that it should stay in the box. On top of the table. Out of reach. Maybe it wasn’t so much that he agreed. But anyway. Seriously, I do know that most turtles carry salmonella and I’m not interested in owning a salmonella-carrying water turtle. Or a water turtle at all, even if it didn’t have salmonella. I let Matty touch it once, then scrubbed the crap out of his hands. So Matty DID get to touch the water turkle once.

Long story short, two hours later, I got a hold of the humane society, who said they’d take it. I was very pleased and called me mom, who reminded me that they might put Matty’s turkle to sleep if they couldn’t find it a home. That upset me, so another hour later, I found a man who owns the herpetological society who said he’d take it. That was exhausting.

By the time we left, Matty’s turkle was very irritated and started HISSING at me. HISSING. Damn turkle is lucky he was so nice when we found him…The man at the herpetological society, who lives in a really nice area, told me he has two ponds with over 300 of these turtles that he’s rescued. OMG. Strange. He poked the turtle’s legs and it snapped and hissed a lot. He said that the turtle was just annoyed but looked healthy. There were tons of cages and all sorts of other enclosures at his place. The whole property was gated with really huge fencing and giant automatic entry and exit gates and had security cameras everywhere. I was trying to figure out who would want to steal any of those reptiles…

Also? I’m 99.9 percent certain that this is the same guy from the same herpetological society that wouldn’t come get the rattle snake that was in our garage once.  But I decided not to hold any grudges, being that he took the turtle and all. Lucky thing for the turtle that the herpetological society man took him and the turkle didn’t have to meet the same fate as that rattle snake…allegedly.

By the time we dropped the turkle off, it was late in the afternoon. Ed and my dad went golfing today (which is why Matty and I enjoyed the turkle drama on our own), so we met my mom for lunch. Matty was so tired by the end of lunch that he started crying in his high chair and saying, “Mommy. Peezzeee. Nigh nigh.” My mom was paying the bill when he started crying again, saying, “Mommy. Pook! (poop). New diaper. Peezzee!” How funny is that? This is the kid that gets annoyed if I interrupt his playing to change his diaper. He was just exhausted.

Nice Sunday, huh? Matty won’t ever be able to tell me I didn’t let him have any pets besides dogs. He totally owned a turkle for four hours. At least we enjoyed some time with my mom, who is still sick but starting to feel better (and is no longer contagious).  We have a busy week with lots of stuff to get done.  Have a great week!

This ‘n’ That

I have a few posts that are nearly finished, but I’ve been very busy today, sitting on my butt, writing an article that is taking for-ever, so they’ll have to wait.

I wanted to write this down before I forget, though. Mattix opened a fortune cookie recently and his fortune read,

You have the ability to touch many lives.

I can’t think of anything more fitting for him.  For the 15 months that I’ve known him, Mattix has touched many, many lives, whether it’s a long lasting, impacting impression, as he has left on all of us who know and love him, or a short but still meaningful one, as he leaves on many strangers who have the good fortune of passing him by. He is such a wonderful little person and the entire world is a great place because of him. I know, those are a mom’s sentiments, but I really believe that. All of our lives are so blessed. I can’t wait to continue to watch the many amazing things my little Bug will do over the years.

He’s such a gift and I realize that every day – even when I’m tired or frustrated. He has a huge, full heart and he gives us so much love. He has even started saying, “bug you, mommy” (love you, mommy) out of the blue, other than at bedtime, which is when he’s been saying it for a long time b/c it’s part of our routine. We’ll just be driving in the car, and he’ll say, “Bug you, Mommy!” and flash me that million dollar smile. And he shares everything with us, even his most prized possessions or really good food that is a treat. He wants everyone he cares about to have some. When he gets a smoothie, he takes a sip, then says, “Mommy sip” and tries to give me one, then “Daddy sip” and tries to give Ed one. We have to convince him that it’s all for him and we are really okay with just one sip. He does that with all of his treats.

I thank God for him every day. I didn’t even know that being a mom would be this great. It’s sometimes hard – very hard – and in the beginning, it was hard all of the time, but the rewards are so incredible. I used to hear people say that, but it was more or less meaningless until I got to experience it.

My poor mom caught the flu (even though she had her flu shot).  She is just so sick and I feel terrible. My mom is otherwise healthy, but she doesn’t always have the best immune system when it comes to viruses. I’m not sure why b/c like I said, she is healthy, but she’s always had bad luck with this sort of stuff. I do, too, but I have good reason. I have no immune system and have a nice handful of autoimmune diseases.  As a child, my mom caught Hepatitis A from a chef at a restaurant where her family at regularly. Nobody else in their family of five, just her. She was VERY, very sick for over three months and couldn’t even get out of bed. At least she didn’t need that shot later in life, huh?! When she was a teenager, she caught a severe form of mono and was bedridden again for months.  She had a few other terrible viruses, too. It’s obviously not a virus, but she had hyperemesis gravidarum during ALL three of her pregnancies (she had a rather late term miscarriage with her second pregnancy). She was beyond sick. You should see the few photos of her during that time. She spent lots and lots of time in the hospital. Very sick. She didn’t really have any extra weigh to lose when she got pregnant with me (bitch!), but she was so ill that she lost nearly 20 pounds during her first trimester.

Anyway, I don’t know what started that tangent. Oh, yes, that she’s sick, and yet she never, ever complains. Not ever. She always says that she’s okay and she’ll be just fine “in a day or two” even though we all know better. Who else spends nine entire months – from the minute she conceived until the minute she delivered – puking her guts up 24 hours a day, but doesn’t complain? She literally puked all day and all night for the entire pregnancy each time. A sip of water would make her puke. Over and over and over. But she powered through it and never complained. Ask my dad. He says that it would get so bad, he almost couldn’t stand to watch her puke anymore because he felt so terrible, and yet she never complained.  Just back to the hospital when it got too bad and she needed IVs and whatnot, although she was often so dehydrated her veins would collapse. My mom is pretty amazing.  I would have totally complained. A lot. I might start complaining now, on her behalf.

I hope she gets over this soon. Ed made her homemade soup today and just left with Matty to drop it off for her. My dad’s cooking ability (or rather complete and total lack thereof)  rivals mine, which means my mom would be eating canned soup that he may or may not have burned in the microwave, so Ed though he’d make her homemade vegetable and chicken soup. How sweet is my hubby? I’m lucky to have such great people in my life, huh?

And before I forget, you guys are too nice. Thank you.  Thanks for trying to tell me that I don’t look like a plump two dollar street walker with bad shoes in my last photo. For the record, I didn’t write that so you’d be all, “No, no, you look awesome. You’re totally skinny” and then I’d be like, “Really? So you think I look good? Okay, I guess I look good. Yeah, I’m pretty hot” ’cause it drives me crazy when girls do that. If I say I things are bad, it’s cause I know they are, not b/c I’m fishing for complements. I think I’m one of those strange women who will say to her husband, “Does my a$$ look fat?” and then expects an HONEST answer. If he lies, and I know when he’s lying, I get annoyed. If I wanted my ego stroked, I wouldn’t ask that sort of question! We’ve been married long enough that Ed has learned to be honest with me. When I looked at that photo and was like, “Holy$hitIt’sGottenBad” he was like, “Yeah, you probably need to drop 15. I need to lose about eight pounds. Let’s get started.” He has been cooking super, super healthy since then for me, including egg whites and veggies for breakfast and amazing dinners such as extravagant salads with healthy homemade dressing. Have I mentioned how lucky I am? 

And also, I’m not shallow. I mean, I am, but a lot of me putting a  emphasis on weight and muscle mass is for health, not just vanity. Given all the stuff that I have, I just cannot afford any extra weight. My poor knees, both of which have had extensive surgery, don’t need to haul around 15 extra pounds. And, I’ve been  Type I diabetic since I was nine. I’m very, very fortunate to have blood pressure that runs on the low side (sometimes a little too low). And because I always eat pretty clean, even during the time I gained weight, my cholesterol is always very low (below 140) and my triglycerides are also low. But still, I just don’t feel like my body can afford that extra weight. I know the long term prospects for me are much better if I keep my body fat low and my muscle mass high, so I’m working really hard. I have a terrible metabolism from having had undiagnosed celiac for so long and from being a Type I (I’m really considering adding Symlin to my regimen when I have more time to deal with that, but for now, I just don’t have the energy or time to devote to doing something like that). It’s frustrating b/c I start gaining weight when I eat around 1500 calories a day. To maintain, I need to stay between 1200 and 1400. So, do that math. To lose weight…well, it’s hard. I’m busting my butt at the gym, but this is going to take a while and I know it.  That’s okay. Every day of eating light and working out will remind me not to let this happen again. Part of it was due to my thyroid medication literally stopping working amidst all that my body went through after Matty came home, part was from not sleeping and the stress, and part of was from eating those few hundred extra calories every day in an effort to make myself feel better for what was happening during the first six or so months after we came home with Matty. I’m an emotional eater. Bad combination. It won’t happen again.

Also, I just want to be clear that I realize a size 6 is not overweight or anything and I’m not one of those girls who goes around thinking negative things about myself or other people all day long. I used to be hard on myself and I did have issues, but my concerns are different. I joke around and make sarcastic comments like I did the other day, but my reasons are not just vanity. If I were being honest, I’d say 30% vanity, 70% ’cause I wanna be here to watch my kids grow up. When I was younger, those numbers would have been flipped, but I know better now. ‘Cause I’m old. I’ll be 29 in a few weeks, which means 30 is right around the corner. Yikes!

HOWEVER, the total and complete lack of giving a rat’s a$$ how I dress and whatnot? TOTAL vanity and totally inexcusable. Thank you for agreeing with the whole Uggs situation. The hell???? Packing on a few is one thing. Completely giving up is another. I SWORE I’d never be “that mom” before I became “that mom.” Sad, sad, sad. I’ve torn all of the newspaper off the mirrors in our house and I’m working on getting back on the straight and narrow when it comes to that stuff. Although it might be easier if I fit into my clothes…

Mmmkay, the longest ever rambling post about nothing in particular. I outdo myself. Back to work! I hope to have some good news to post soon. It would certainly relieve a lot of stress and being able to sleep would be nice! Fingers crossed.

So exactly what went wrong?

I’d like to present you with a pre-baby photo and a post-baby photo. You all know I didn’t give birth, so I can’t even pretend that’s where things went wrong. (Like the time I was looking in a boutique, and the woman who owns it was trying to get me to try on clothes, and I told her I was just looking b/c I wasn’t buying anything until I was back into my regular size, and she was all, “Oh, that’s silly, you look great.” and I was like, “You have to say that, and it’s nice, but no, I don’t, and I’m not buying any clothes until I fit into my regular size” and she was all, “I understand, honey, but wasn’t he worth it” (referring to Matty) and I was all, “Yeah, but I didn’t give birth to him” and she was all, “Um, oh, um, right, um…” and I was like, “That’s okay, I know, I have no excuse. Bad that this happened, huh?” and she was like, “Um, maybe a little…but really, you should try on the dress.” Yeah.

So anyway, taking the fat out of the equation, WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO ME? At what point did I stop caring so much that I deemed Uggs an acceptable accessory to a dress? Seriously? This is my new version of dressed up. I’m so depressed. Don’t worry – I do NOT think I looked good or anything before I became Mom (I’m honest with myself). But now? Really? All of the things I swore would never happen have happened. Every. last. thing. I’m not even 30. I think I need a drink.

And? The bangs? Two weeks ago, when I was getting my hair done, I really felt like it was a good idea. I last had bangs about four or five years ago and I liked them at the time. Note to self: bangs look different at plus 25.  (That’s Plus 25 pounds.) Really, they do. Also? I’m regretting lopping off six or so inches of hair. Ahhhh, this is bad…

And while I’m at it? I’ve always said that lipstick makes me look like a two dollar whore. I don’t know why, but it just does. Probably because I’m so pale, although I’m only a shade or two lighter than my mom and she can really rock the lipstick. I dunno. That’s not the point. I look like cheap hooker when I wear lipstick. Any guesses as to why, then, I felt it necessary to put on lipstick? I must have felt the need to look like a two dollar whore.

You know how sometimes you know it’s bad, but you don’t actually know HOW bad it is until you see a photo? Yeah, this is that photo for me. I first saw it a little over a week ago and that was the final kick in a$$ I needed. I’m on Day 9 of my No Refined Carbs Plan. Fruits, veggies, and lean protein…the way I used to eat, before I totally stopped caring. Or before I apparently put newspaper over all of the mirrors in my house. I almost gave up red wine, too, until Saturday night, when Kedra and I were trying to make headboards and she opened up a bottle of wine and I was like, “No, I’m not drinking that” and she was like, “Whatever. We’re making freaking ugly headboards on a Saturday night. Give me a break” and then the next thing you know, she’s shooting staples all over the room out of an electric staple gun and I’m trying to protect my eyes and she’s laughing like a hyena. Anyway, that’s when the red wine was reintroduced to the meal plan. Red wine is good for your heart, anyway. But the carbs? They’re out, along with the Uggs. At least with dresses. When I’m going somewhere without the little one. So pretty much never. But that’s not the point.

I can only take so much in one night. I’m going to bed. At 8:30. But I won’t be able to sleep, because stress interfere with one’s ability to sleep. I know this b/c I haven’t slept in six weeks.

Something less depressing tomorrow…probably about Ed, who is really rude to telemarketers but super polite to hookers and drug dealers. And who also still watched the OC and reruns of Tyra but totally denies it when I catch him in the act. Aren’t men supposed to get busted watching porn or something? Not my man. He gets busted watching the OC. Oh, crap, this is depressing!

Also, we had an awesome weekend. Mattix is just the coolest kid. He and I have SO much fun together, and he really made everyone’s day on Sunday afternoon. He’s so much fun. More another day. Maybe tomorrow instead of Ed, ’cause I’m sort of embarrassed by the whole Tyra thing.

Bob the Builder

First thing’s first: I looked at my blog stats today, something I haven’t done in months, and now I regret it very much. Very. Much. For two reasons: one, I’m a little weirded out by the hits from a PRISON in Canada. Please, if you’re a reader and you work at a Canadian prison, let me know so I can relax about that one. ‘Cause otherwise, I’m not really okay and that’s probably going to be the kick in the a$$ I need to go entirely private.  Do prisoners have Internet access? I’m being serious for once.

Two, really, ladies, if your husband actually wears your panties, and you’re not being sarcastic, LIKE I AM when I say that my husband wears my panties while mocking him for watching America’s Next Top Model, I don’t feel like googling it and landing here is going to offer the help you need. I’m not sure what would offer that help, but I do know you aren’t going to find it here.  I don’t even know what to say. I think Oprah has a show about that once. This is a rare occasion – I’ve got nothing!

Moving on.

Bob the Builder.

My parents are building a new house right now. Today, 15 cement trucks came out to the property to lay part of the foundation. Because it’s not yet summer and construction doesn’t start at 5:00 a.m., I decided we’d take Mattix over to watch. I got my lazy butt moving this morning and Ed and I got there at 7:30 so he could watch.  He is REALLY into heavy machinery and construction trucks and whatnot lately. He is just in awe of everything big and “guck” (truck). We were only half an hour past the start time. Not bad, huh? You all know how much I hate mornings. I actually woke up and yelled at Ed. How bad is that? I was all, “Can’t you just take him without me?” and I totally yelled! That’s the first thing I said at 6:00 a.m., except I didn’t really say it, I yelled it.

I’ve been such a crank in the morning for the past week. I’m sleeping terribly every single night and I wake up just exhausted and ohmygosh, I was so rude. I yelled! That’s not usually me – even when I don’t feel well in the morning, which is pretty much 80% of the time, I’m not a monster. But lately? I’m from hell.  My new continuous glucose monitor wakes me up like every five minutes and that, combined with my stress and anxiety level, is making me very, very tired. Plus, I’ve never slept well at night. I get my “best” sleep between 5 or 6 and 9:00 a.m, which obviously hasn’t happened since December 2007. Truthfully, Ed has been really great about letting me sleep in the mornings for the past few weeks – like four or five mornings a week, which is helping b/c truly, that’s the only sleep I get all night. However, I think he might regret that now that he realizes what happens when I have to get up after being spoiled a few days in a row. I snap out of it quickly, but that does not excuse that sort of behavior.

Anyway, enough about my nastiness. Mattix has a great time. It’s a big construction site and there were cement trucks and people working everywhere. He was pretty intimidated by everything going on, but he was equally infatuated. He didn’t want to be held, but he also wouldn’t let go of my finger. He kept a serious death grip on my pointer finger. He actually cut off the circulation at one point and I had to switch fingers. Despite his uncertainty, he loved everything. He narrated the whole morning, screamed, “BACK UP, BACK UP, BLUE GUCK” (truck) over and over, even though the trucks were white (gotta work on colors) and other important things, like “BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, TURN!” It was pretty funny. He also really wanted to jump in and help the concrete layers, but I’m pretty sure we would have lost him in the concrete.

Here are a few cute pictures:

See? Seriously – he had a death grip!

Ed told me to pull my hand back just for a second so he could get a shot without my arm ruining it

That ended up being the only way to get pictures without my hand in them, although he usually shot me the look and took my hand back.

Look how tiny Mattix is next to the giant Saguaro. Granted, it’s a big cactus, but he’s such a little peanut! (BTW, he’s not standing like two inches in front of it, which is how it looks, so don’t worry.)

Here are the Bob the Builder shots. He let us put him in the scoop for a while before he got brave enough for the seat.

Doing a little ’70’s Stayin’ Alive dancing while working

Once he was comfortable, he was all into driving, yelling, “Go! Go! Backup!”

When we came home, we went outside and played in the backyard for a while. Actually, Mattix played and I worked on answering some of the 2,000 emails I need to get to. It was such a beautiful day. I love days like today – low 70’s, semi-sunny, just nice. I love being outside and that’s one of the things I miss most about Southern California, so when we have beautiful days like today, I just can’t get enough. Mattix likes few things more than playing in the backyard. He keeps quite busy with his stuff – a playhouse (courtesy of Grandma), a slide and swing, a basketball hoop, a tball setup, golf clubs and balls, a sandbox, tons of of outdoor toys…and his prized possession:

 I swear, I have yet to find a better use of $30. I bought it a while back at the children’s resale store. I never thought I’d hit the jackpot with a cozy coupe, but I did! He just drives it all over the yard. I took this picture b/c he always drives up to the gate and yells, “OPEN!” and then sits there for a few minutes, as though the back gate is going to magically open, allowing him to head down the driveway. It’s funny. He does it every day even though we’ve never opened the gate for him.

He also drives it to the other side of the yard, manages to maneuver it into the big river rocks, then sits in there and demands “Backup!” to himself as he grunts and groans, putting all of his effort into backing up over the rocks. Today, there was a most unfortunate crash and Matty and the Cozy Coupe tumbled into one of the larger succulent plants that is a little bit pokey (sharp). I had literally  just walked into the house to get my computer before the ”accident”  and he came burning into the house, horrified, yelling, “Crash, mommy! Guck! Help! Bro-keen! Peeze!” He even had a little road rash on his cheek. He couldn’t get his Cozy Coupe righted and he was just heartbroken. I wanted to take a picture because it was truly hilarious, but he was so distressed about the Great Crash of ‘09 that I did the right thing for once. No photo.

Last photo, I promise. The landscapers were out doing the common areas today. Mattix spent a good portion of his time up on the fence, yelling out to them. He wasn’t yelling at them, but rather to them, carrying on full gibberish conversations (totally one-sided – nobody even acknowledged him, but that didn’t stop him). I enjoyed it b/c he doesn’t do the senseless babble anymore and I think it’s cute. Whatever he was saying, it was clearly very important.

After that, we went to the gym and he played super hard in the child care room. Given my current circumstances, I should more or less be spending every waking hour in the gym. I nearly died on the elliptical. Glad one of us had fun. I watched him on the monitor as I struggled not to have a heart attack and I swear, he literally ran all over the room and played for an entire hour. Afterwards, I couldn’t resist his whole cute act and “Smoogie, peeze, mommy” voice, so he got a banana smoothie. For the first time ever, he sucked nearly 2/3 s of it down, then came home and promptly passed out. He’s been asleep for over three hours now! I haven’t seen him that exhausted in a while. He was in a super sweet, mellow, tired mood and I loved it. He snuggled with me for a few minutes, gave me tons of hugs on the way upstairs, kissed me a handful of times, said “Bug you” and then happily laid down. We’ll see how much longer this lasts…and how late he’s up tonight!

“Nnnnoooooo!”

Well, it finally happened. We made it all the way to two years and almost one month before it happened. My baby learned to really use the word “no.” Sad, sad, sad.

Mattix has known “no” for a long time and he’d sometimes say it, but nothing really serious. And it was usually cute because Mattix said it in this funny accent that sounded like, “nnyyyyyoooo” and then he’d do whatever he said no to anyway.  Well, that’s over. From the minute Ed and I got back into town on Friday night, he was very excited to show us his new use of “NO!” which, unfortunately, is pretty much the answer to ev.er.y.thing.

He scrunches up his little face and says, “Nnnnoooo!” You have to hear the tone. Basically, he conveys his message, which is more or less, “Hell no, and don’t ask again, dumb a$$.” He doesn’t mess around.

I made a big mistake and spent Saturday making him say “No, thank you.” By Sunday, he had it down. Now, he says, “Nnnnnoooo!” in that sassy voice, followed by “Tank too” and a fake smile.

Great.

I realize that the way to cut back on the “no’s” is to ask less questions, thus offering less choices. However, I’m so used to asking questions b/c I’ve spent the past 15 months talking to him like an adult, narrating every last thing we do and then asking if he’d like to do it, that it’s a hard habit to break.

Me: “Matty, do you want to get into your car seat now?”

Matty: “Nnnnnoooo.”

Me: What?

Matty: “Nnnnooooo. Tank too.”

Me: Matty, should we go to the store now?”

Matty: Nnnnooooo.” (pause) “Tank too.”

Two is awesome! Seriously, though, two really is fun so far. I love how Mattix is expressing so much. He narrates every last thing we do, and his sense of humor is developing even more. He gets sarcasm and intentionally says and does things that are funny, then cracks up at himself.

I finally charged my cheap Kodak Easy Share point and click and put it back in my purse. I used to carry it around and I’d take photos all day, every day, just doing ordinary things. I love all of the crappy quality photos I have, just because they represent Mattix’s life. I used to pull it out at least every other day and take a photo when I thought of it. The battery died months ago and instead of charging it and carrying it around, I threw it in my nightstand and just left it there. I charged it up for Ed’s and my trip last week, so now it’s back in action. Here are a few cute ones.

We ate at Sweet Tomatoes yesterday, where they have perfect itty bitty frozen yogurt cones. Mattix lllooovvveeeesss them and is so cute about eating his “eye cream.”

Lately, I can’t get a single photo of Mattix with a genuine smile. As soon as he sees the camera, he either breaks out his cheesy smile, which is way over the top (see below), or he gets a total serious face. It’s frustrating b/c Mattix has the most beautiful genuine smile. I guess he just doesn’t want me to capture it in a photo!

Today at Costco, or “Cock-o” according to Matty. He says it with a really strong accent on the “o” and it’s hilarious.

He really wanted Ed and I to sit in the car with him. He kept patting the seat next to him and yelling, “Sit! Peezzee! Sit!” Honey, I wish my ass would fit in that seat. Hell, I wish half of it would fit.

No trip to Coscto would be complete without a minor meltdown. This fake crying episode was the result of being told “no” to a third sample of guac.

And one final cheese during checkout

March 8th – Two Years!

Today marks the two year anniversary of Mattix’s referral! Two years ago today, I first saw my baby’s gorgeous little face and fell in love. Two years later, I get to see that face all day, every day, and the amount of love I have in my heart is indescribable.

I wrote about our referral day last year (HERE). At the end of the post, I wrote,  ”The year following March 8, 2007, seemed like a long, long year. But so far, it has been the most important year of my (and Ed’s) entire life. I’m so lucky to have Mattix as my son and I can’t even wait to see what the next year brings.”

Well, the next year brought amazing, huge leaps and bounds for Mattix’s adjustment and attachment. In fact, the last year has been incredible and indescribable. If my (broken) crystal ball had told me what was to come, I wouldn’t have believed it.  If we didn’t know what Mattix had been through before he came to us, we wouldn’t know. Does that make sense?  The behaviors and hurts that were so hard to watch are no longer there. This is not to minimize his experiences before he became part of our family. I’d never do that. It’s just to say that he is doing so unbelievably well and his little soul seems healed. He is a secure, loving, smart, funny little two year old boy with a big two year old personality.

I feel so great about the level of attachment Mattix has reached. I remember not too long ago realizing he was insecurely attached. I felt good about that because insecure attachment is far superior to no attachment. He was very clingy with me and would lose it if I was out of sight. He wanted me to pick him up all the time, so I did. He often didn’t want anyone – including Ed – to take him out of my arms. Shortly thereafter, and I don’t even know when, he became securely attached. He knows that Ed and I are mom and dad and we’re not going anywhere. He knows that and feels confident about it. He loves to go over to MaMaw and Papa’s house to play (last time I dropped him off, he pushed my shoulder and yelled, “GO, mama, GO!”), but he loves it even more when I come back to pick him up. Oh, the kisses and hugs! When I pick him up, he jumps into my arms and says, “Bye, bye, MaMaw! Mommy’s Car!”

I think attachment is a lifelong journey and I’d never say that I have nothing about which worry. I just feel very grateful about where we are. Ed and I left town together for the first time last week for four days and three nights. I was so concerned about how Mattix would do – both when we were gone and when we came home. As it turns out, he did wonderfully. He’s not pretending or hiding anything – he’s just doing that well. He missed us and talked about us a lot (he spent lots of time pointing to our pictures and talking about us while we were gone – how sweet), and when we came home, he was tickled to death to see us. He has not been concerned about a thing since we came back, he’s sleeping just fine (for Mattix), and he is as happy as usual.

Fifteen months. That’s not long, really. Fifteen months to go from the point where I was scared to death, then just scared, then worried, then always thinking of it, then thinking of it often…now, I keep attachment in the back of my mind and size up situations here and there, but overall, I feel confident. I know situations will arise where we’ll have to put more effort into things and he’ll need more reassurance, and I think that’s normal and expected.

And of course I can’t talk about it without acknowledging that attachment often works two ways. I think it was a combination of my personality and the situation as it was when Mattix came home that made it necessary for me to have adequate time to attach. I went out of town for three days (and left Mattix with Ed) in May – about five months after we came home – and then again in July. I remember really missing Mattix and wanting to see him again. But that feeling was NOTHING like it was last week. Last week, I felt like a big chunk of my heart was missing and it hurt. I was able to have fun, but not without thinking of Mattix all day, every day. I know it’s probably not entirely PC to acknowledge that, but for me, to go from a place of having no mommy instincts to one where it just feels natural took time.

So, once again, I’m very excited to see what the next year brings. I think I have a better idea this time, but who knows? Mattix never ceases to amaze me.

I just ADORE this face. Mattix makes this face any time I ask him to “look in my eyes, please.” I do that when I want to reprimand him for something or if what I want to tell him is important. He knows that when mommy asks him to look into her eyes, it’s a little serious. He raises his eyebrows and opens his eyes super wide and makes this face. Iif I’m about to reprimand him, it makes it VERY tough not to laugh. It’s his serious, “I’m trying to focus” face. How cute is my baby?

Checkin’ Out…

…for the week. My brain is fried, my article is  finished, and that’s all I’ve got. I’ll post this weekend.  Ch-ch-ch changes! My head is spinning. Change has always been my enemy, but sometimes, it’s a great thing. I’m going to embrace it, not complain, and keep an open, excited mind.

Ed got some amazing photos of my baby in one of the like 50 traditional Vietnamese outfits we bought Vietnam. I’ve been nagging Ed for months now, telling him how he totally blew it b/c we have four Size 1 outfits and Mattix surely grew out of them and blah, blah, blah. Well, I came home the other day to find Mattix in one of the outfits and he just looked perfect. He could probably wear it for at least two more months. Ed snapped some photos and I love a handful of them.

Of course, I’m too tired to get them off of the camera, but I’ll do it this weekend. Mattix looked so grown up in some photos, yet like such a little bitty baby in others.

Hey, maybe I’ll get out *my* outfit and have take a few…oh, wait, I’ve doubled in size since we came home and given that I had to buy an EXTRA LARGE to fit my previously size 2/4 self, well, who are we kidding? I’ll have Ed wear it, instead.

Also? Because this is already super random, I have to say that I’m very grateful to have my Bug back. When he got sick a few weeks ago, he got into the terrible habit of whining constantly. Ugh. To me, whining is my Achilles heel. It makes me CRAZY. I can handle crying, screaming, yelling, even puking, but whining? Not so much. It takes every last ounce of self control not to grab an ice pick and shove it into my ears. Thankfully, after lots of gentle reminding every. single. minute of every.single.day, Mattix is back! He even caught himself today twice and corrected himself. How great is that?!

 I’ve been a terrible blog friend and have a whole giant “stack” of emails that I need to respond to and I will…this weekend. Hope you guys have an amazing week. Lisa, I am THRILLED for you and cannot even wait for everything to unfold. I’d link to your blog, but you don’t have one!!! (hint, hint, hint).